In the Dead of Night
by SkullsAndInk
Summary: Bucky moves into a new apartment, and his next door neighbor is more than happy to give him a distraction from his nightmares anytime. Mostly PWP, with a bit of background. Mentions of flashbacks and PTSD.


_**AN:**_ **I've never written smut before, so here goes nothing. This is mostly PWP with just a little background mixed in. Enjoy the smutty goodness.**

 **Disclaimed: Only the female character is mine, Bucky is not unfortunately.**

A frantic pounding at the door was the first thing I heard when I woke up. Moving my hair out of my face, I glared at the bright red numbers that said it was just past two in the morning. Who the hell was up at this ungodly hour? The knocking continued, loud and incessant. Deciding it wouldn't be worth it to try and pretend I was still asleep, I grab my knee-length silky robe, tying it loosely around me, before walking down the short hallway to my front door. The frame rattled as whoever was on the other side pounded once more, and I undid lock, leaving the chain in place. Cracking the door open, I let my eyes adjust to the dim hall light, then widen in understanding as I saw who was on the other side.

Hair mussed from sleep, shirt rumpled and jeans hanging low, breathing in deep ragged breaths was my next door neighbor, Bucky. Understanding what he was doing here, I undid the chain without a word and let him in. Not a word was exchanged as he padded bare-foot into my flat. I locked the door, already knowing how this night was going to go. When Bucky first moved in, I had been apprehensive of the quiet man, until I heard something strange one night. I couldn't sleep, so it was about one in the morning when I heard a soft knocking on the other side of the wall, and soft groans and whimpers. Originally I had thought that he had some romantic company over and simply rolled my eyes knowingly, before I realized that all the sounds were from the same voice, and they were only getting more panicked. I threw on a robe and walked over, knocking on the door in hopes of waking him up. Eventually, the sounds quieted down, and a very worn out Bucky finally answered the door. We had never really spoken, but the moment I saw him I knew. I worked with veterans down at the military hospital, and the signs of PTSD were clearly there. I had asked if there was anything I could do to help, and he seemed adamant about wanting to be alone, and I retreated to my flat after reassuring him I was right next door if he needed anything. Two hours later there was a knocking at my door, and there was Bucky. Without a word, he grabbed my waist and captured my lips in a bruising kiss.

I'll admit, I had been insanely attracted to him when he first moved in, and I had been single for so long that I was almost dying from sexual deprivation. Many nights I fell into a deep, worn out sleep after imagining Bucky between my legs, whispering words that played into my darkest desires. So when he began to brutally kiss me, pressing me close to his body, I could feel his thick arousal through his thin sleep pants. No words were exchanged between us that first night, the only sounds soft moans and heavy pants. The next morning I woke alone, thinking it was just another one of my filthy dreams, but it wasn't long before he came knocking, a box of donuts in his hand, head hanging apologetically. I made coffee, and we talked over what the hell that all was. Bucky confessed that he had nightmares, and many times he couldn't fall back asleep afterwards, head to caught up in past events, which I didn't ask about or pry into, knowing it was his business not mine. I could guess that it was the same events that gave him his metal arm, and the thick scars that connected it to his skin. He explained that he had been attracted to me too when he moved in, and that when I had made the offer of if I could do anything to help, his mind went to the one thing that could banish the flashbacks for the rest of the night, and that had led to us sleeping together.

I was in shock, but admitted to my own desires, and how good the night before had been after being deprived for so long. It also helped that he clearly knew what to do with his hands and mouth. We worked out an arrangement. Any time that Bucky needed a nighttime distraction from the flashbacks, he was welcome to come over, and we could engage in similar activities. Although if I said no, that was it. I enjoyed sex, almost so much one might call my a nymphomaniac, but there were some nights I just didn't feel up to it. Other nights, he could just come over to talk, and I would give him a safe space to let his guard down however much h felt comfortable. This began a tentative friendship between us, and for three months, we talked, fucked, and generally bonded. The more time I spent with Bucky, both in bed and out, the more I enjoyed being around the mysterious, broken man.

This night was one of the nights where we both needed release. I had been dying to have him back in my bed, my fingers and toys just not doing the job that night, and I could see that he needed to have a source for all his frantic energy. The moment the door was closed, I felt hands, one warm and soft, the other cold and hard, around my waist, pulling me against a broad chest. He swept my hair to one side, attacking the sensitive flesh of my neck, eliciting a breathy moan from my lips. After three months, he knew my turn ons and what made me beg, and my neck was one spot that instantly sent heat pooling between my legs, soaking the panties I was wearing. He spun me around without warning, pulling my lips to his in a brutal kiss, all teeth and tongue and biting. Bucky knew that I enjoyed being dominated and controlled, which made it all the easier for him to regain the control he didn't have in his flashbacks. He bent down, placing his hands on my thighs, and hoisting me up so my legs were around his waist, my hot center just above his thick arousal. I wondered if he would take me there, right against the front door, but he pulled his lips away from mine and stared into my eyes, his lips swollen and his blue eyes glittering. "Not just yet, sweetheart. Gonna have to beg first." He took my lips again, and carried me to my bedroom, kicking the door shut behind us, before tossing me of his waist to land on the bed.

Instantly he was on top of me, tugging off my robe and tearing it from my body, leaving me in just a thin red camisole and a pair of black lace panties. I thanked my stars it hadn't been a granny-panty night. My camisole quickly followed the robe, cast to the side of the bed. My nipples were already raised with arousal, and the cold night air only made them stand out more, goose bumps raising on my skin. Instead of attacking my breasts like I knew he enjoyed, Bucky reached for my robe and took the tie from it, motioning for me to scoot back. I obeyed, and he took my wrists in his, tying them above my head to the headboard in an intricate knot I couldn't hope to undo. The rest of the robe he tied around my eyes, cutting off the little bit of light coming in through the window. I was completely at his mercy, but this only made me more aroused, not knowing what he was going to do next.

I heard him shifting around, and the rustle of fabric before there was a soft thud, and I could tell he had take his shirt off as he bent over me and his warm skin brushed against my cold flesh. He kissed me lightly, sucking on my bottom lip before biting it softly, teasing. Without my sight, all sensations were enhanced, and the bite made me gasp. His lips drew away, and the next thing I felt was them closing around my left nipple, suckling on the sensitive skin there. His tongue tongue across the skin as he sucked harder, the pain pleasure making me whimper with desire. He drew back, biting down on the skin just above my nipple, before going over and doing the same to my right breast. As his mouth worked there, he supported his weight on his metal hand while the right one trailed down to play with the waistband on my panties. I whimpered again, silently begging him to use his hand where I wanted him the most, but he only snapped the elastic and pulled away. "Careful, sweetheart, or I might be forced to spank your pussy." The filthy words had me biting my lip with suppressed desire, and I could feel wetness soaking my inner thighs now. He knew what spanking did to me, and how much I loved dirty talk. "You'd like that, wouldn't you sweetheart? For me to tease you to the point of climax, before spanking your naughty little pussy, bringing you just away from the edge, before teasing you again, and fucking you into oblivion." My vivid imagination showed me exactly what that would be like, and I squirmed against my restraints, desperate for release. He grabbed my hands, stopping my movements. "Uh uh, sweetheart, behave." I obeyed and stopped moving. "Good girl."

He kissed from the side of my neck down my chests, between my aching breasts, down to just above my panties, before finally sliding those down my legs too. "You're dripping, sweetheart. You want it bad don't you?"

"Yes." I answered breathily, and he chuckled deeply, moving his metal hand to my folds, teasing my entrance but not going in like I wanted, the sensation of cold metal making the torture all the more delicious.

"I told you, sweetheart, you have to beg." I could hear the enjoyment in his voice, how aroused he was from bringing me to a desperate, whimpering mess.

"Bucky, please. Please…." Without another word, he plunged two fingers inside of me, tearing a moan from my throat. He fucked me with his fingers while his tongue worked on my clit, sending flares of pleasure through my whole body. It wasn't long before I felt like I was ready to climax, and I breathily moaned his name, telling him how close I was. He withdrew his fingers and I heard the sound of discarded clothing once more, and his lips closed over mine while I felt something very hard pressing against my thigh.

"You ready, sweetheart?" Bucky asked, and I nodded, desperate to have him inside of me. I felt him work his thick length into my entrance, thankfully without any pain from his earlier fingering. The feeling of being filled and stretched was exquisite, the sensation familiar but still just as wonderful.

Bucky moaned deep. "Tight was ever, sweetheart. So good." He started to move, his hips tapping against mine each time he pushed in me. He started out slow, but went faster and faster as we both gave in to pleasure. I whined and moaned, begging him to go faster, harder, amongst a barely understandable litany of curse words. The noises Bucky made were wonderful, and it filled me with joy to know I was the cause of his pleasure. I felt myself getting ever closer to climax, and I wrapped my legs around his waist so he could go deeper. "I'm close, sweetheart. Let go, darling." He kissed me, and white hot pleasure shot through me as I moaned my climax into his mouth, my walls clamping down on him, signalling his own release inside of me.

When we came down from our individual highs, we laid side by side for a time, both sweaty with exertion and thoroughly sated. Bucky untied my hands and took off the blindfold, revealing the wonderful sight of his flushed cheeks and dilated pupils. We used my robe to clean up, tossing it somewhere towards the laundry hamper, before climbing under the covers. He wrapped his arms around me, and I snuggled deep into his chest. He kissed the top of my head through my hair. "Good night sweetheart" was the last thing I heard before drifting off, pretending that when I woke up he would still be there.


End file.
